Titanic: The Tale Of Master Jack Dawson
by kirbykirbz
Summary: What if Jack was the one in first class and Rose was a third-class maid aboard the ship? A reverse role story.
1. Just Some Old Ghosts

He sat in his favourite armchair in the nursing home, playing cards with some of the veterans of the home. He had only recently been admitted to his elderly prison. The calendar in the corner read April 12th, 1996 but the days passed endlessly for the old folk. The six o'clock news was on; a smartly dressed reporter explained the breaking story of a tragic plane collision that claimed several lives. The old men weren't really paying attention, their eyes fixed firmly on their cards. They were playing for television privileges. Last week Beatrix took the winnings and the men were forced to watch reruns of The Love Boat.  
A young nurse came in with a trolley in tow, "Alrighty, time for bed boys." The men groaned and grumbled but they knew that they couldn't escape the inevitable. They formed a line ready to take their medicine. He was used to taking medication; his grandson would force him to take his pills every evening. It was at that particular moment that the television showed something that would change his life forever. "You're up next dear" chimed the nurse. But he paid no attention. He shuffled slowly towards the television and stared as a man was walking through a laboratory. Brock Lovett was the man on the television, he was fixated on the ghostly sunken remains of the Titanic as he was looking for a very expensive diamond that fell in the ocean. "What is it?" the nurse looked worried as the old man before her stood hypnotised by the screen. Brock Lovett pulled out an old hand drawn sketch of a beautiful naked woman wearing the diamond that Brock and his team were searching for. The corner was initialled J.D. and signed for the 14th of April, 1912. The night that the Titanic sunk. "Well I'll be damned" the old man muttered and he pleaded for the nurse to bring the phone to him.  
The nurse, whilst sceptical, did so hurriedly as the old man's hands shook whilst dialling the station. After a few minutes the station transferred the call to Brock Lovett himself. Brock answered the phone cynically, all too familiar with being sent on a wild goose chase. "Probably just some spinster looking for publicity" muttered his assistant, Lewis Bodine.  
"Hello there"  
"Greetings Mister Lovett, I was just wondering if you had found The Heart Of The Ocean Yet?"  
Brock paused. He knew that the old man on the other end of the phone knew something.  
"Okay sir you have my attention. Can you tell us who the woman in the picture is?"  
"Oh yes" replied the old man shakily "I knew her. Every inch of her. I drew that picture on the evening that the Titanic sunk. I'm J.D… Jack Dawson."


	2. Delving Into Suppressed Memories

Jack had never been in a helicopter, and was quite tense after overhearing of the air collision on the news. The nurse who had been taking care of Jack came with him on the journey, both worried for his health and intrigued about his knowledge about the Titanic. She observed the old man who was sketching something quietly. He was not much of a talker; she had seen pictures of him when he was younger. He was quite handsome, well groomed blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Judging by the photos he was well off for money. The helicopter made a smooth landing and the door opened to reveal Brock Lovett and his crew waiting with anticipation. Jack put away his sketchpad and climbed down to greet him.

After exchanging small talk for a while, Jack decided it was time to see his drawing. Brock and Mr. Bodine took him down to the lab where a familiar object caught his eye. A waterlogged, but still recognisable, green safe. Jack ran a wrinkled hand over the safe, still recalling the combination that opened it. Brock explained the history of the diamond, and decided to test the authenticity of the old man's story. "I tracked it down through insurance records... and old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secrecy. Do you know who the claiment was, Jack?" The old man nodded. "Someone named Hockley, I should imagine." Mr. Bodine and Brock shared a hopeful nod, knowing that this was indeed Jack Dawson. "Nathan Hockley, right. Pittsburgh steel tycoon. For a diamond necklace he bought in France, for you to present to his daughter as an engagement present. A week before he sailed on Titanic. And the claim was filed right after the sinking. So the diamond had to have gone down with the ship."

Jack examined some of the things from his stateroom, a tidal wave of memories drowning out all of his other thoughts. "Are you ready to go back to the Titanic?" questioned Brock softly. Jack nodded and the nurse wheeled him to the imaging room. Bodine showed Jack a technological screening of how the Titanic sank as Brock went to retrieve a voice recorder. Jack drew in a long breath and stared out at the wreckage. The doors to the first class dining area were right in front of them. Jack remembered the night that he saw the dining room, the whole ship for that matter; fill with the icy cold water of the Atlantic. He put his head in his hands, trying not to allow tears to escape his eyes. "I'm taking Jack to rest" says his nurse caringly.  
"No!" said Jack in a voice much stronger than the voice of a frail old man. "It's been 84 years…"  
"Just tell us what you can" urged Brock.  
"Do you want to hear the story or not Mr. Lovett?" said Jack plainly.  
Bodine smirked at the old man's wit as the whole room filled with anticipation. "It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used, the sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called the ship of dreams, and it was. It really was…"

**April 10****th****, 1912.**

There stood the ship of dreams, towering over the crowd of people there to see her off on her maiden voyage. People were getting ready to board in their respective areas of first class, second class and third class or steerage. Somewhere in the middle of the crowds a car horn beeped obnoxiously, bringing itself to attention of the spectators. The car slowed to a halt, as a young man with sandy blonde hair in a crisp suit exited the vehicle. It was Jack Dawson, a young man aged seventeen who had no particular interest in the Titanic at that point. He hurried around to open the door and take the hand of his fiancée Catherine Hockley as she gracefully climbed out. He didn't particularly want to marry Catherine, she was self-centred and controlling, arrogant and almost childlike at times. His mother Ruth insisted that the two of them marry, keeping money amongst the rich. Jack's father had taken off with his mistress, leaving him and his mother penniless. This marriage would ensure that they would stay financially supported, due to Nathan Hockley promising them fortune. Nathan Hockley was a man rich beyond belief, and would stop short of nothing to guarantee his daughter's happiness. He was quite particular about which suitor his daughter would have for a husband, but knew that the Dawson's needed money and his daughter needed a husband. But whilst Jack was displeased by the arrangement, Catherine was more than delighted. From the moment she saw Jack, he was like a helpless fly in her spider web.

Nathan Hockley immediately started barking orders, demanding that his bags take priority. Jack went around and helped his mother out of the car. Ruth fanned herself and stared at the ship while gentlemanly Jack helped out the maid, Trudy. Jack saw Nathan take out his pocket watch and he waved them over "We'd better hurry, this way." They made their way towards the boarding area for those who were also in first class. Jack surveyed the massive iron ship, his heart sinking as he realised that the idea of an arranged marriage was very real.

**PRESENT**

Jack looked sadly at his nurse, who was eyeing him sympathetically. "It was the ship of dreams… to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship, taking me back to America in chains." Jack paused and looked at the crew who were anxious for more. He rubbed his cold hands together and prepared to continue telling his tale.


	3. A Red-Haired Angel Up Close

**Hey guys, sorry for making it so long between posts, it's been a busy year so far! Hope you're enjoying the story! A side note which some of you may have figured out already is that Catherine is supposed to be the female version of Caledon and her father Nathan is based on the character of the 'man servant' Spicer Lovejoy. Some of the deleted scenes from the movie will also be incorporated. Please review you r thoughts/likes/dislikes about the story, feedback is always appreciated. :)**

Within no time they had been directed tho their rooms and Jack went through the whole ordeal as if he was on auto-pilot. He noted the excitement of the children as they raced around to find their rooms. A rare moment where their respectable mothers did not tell them off for being rambunctious on the world's most majestic ship. Jack sighed, wishing that he could feel that was about the experience. "Trudy, continue unpacking these awful canvases" ordered Catherine, turning her nose up at the contents of the crate. They were Picasso paintings that Nathan had purchased for Jack when they were at a gallery auction. None of them could see why Jack was so taken by these drawings, but it pleased him nonetheless. "Thank you" mouthed Jack to Trudy, and she returned a grateful curtsey as they headed down to the lobby.

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny" said a woman loudly and a porter rushed to take her bags. Jack looked at this woman with great interest. She was in her forties, and was a larger woman. Whilst she was certainly dressed like the rest of the people in first class there was something different about her. Something common about her, Jack's mother would sneer later at dinner. "Hey, Hockley!" she said cheerfully, dropping her heavy bag and making the porter fall to the floor. Nathan Hockley shared an amused look with Jack as she strode over. "Margaret Brown-"  
"Please, call me Molly."  
"Care to join us for our luncheon in the restaurant Mrs. Brown? We're meeting with the master ship builder Mr. Andrews and Mr. Bruce Ismay."  
And with that Catherine pulled lightly on Jack's arm as if to steer him to the dining area. They all seated themselves and began discussion about the construction of the Titanic. Already bored with the small talk, Jack took out his sketchpad and started drawing the dining room. Jack found that drawing was his only real hobby or passion in life, he could see things for what they were and could put them on paper. Ruth glanced at Jack and shot him a warning look. "You know I don't like you drawing at the table Jack." He didn't look up and kept sketching the chandelier above them. "He knows" frowned Catherine, snatching his leather bound folio away from him. She never did appreciate his talent for drawing, and found it rather dull if anything. The waiter hurried over to take their order. "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce. You like lamb, don't you darling?" Jack grimaced but suppressed it and nodded. If there ever was a chance to question his manhood, now would be the time. "You gonna cut his meat for him too Cath?" joked Molly, who immediately continued conversation to avoid Catherine's hazardous glare. "Hey, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you Bruce?"  
Mr. Bruce Ismay grinned smugly, taking as much credit as possible. "Yes actually, I wanted to covey sheer size, and size means stability-"  
"Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you" stated Jack, not caring that he broke character.  
"What has gotten into you?" whispered Ruth angrily.  
Jack got up and grabbed his sketchpad from the vacant seat next to Catherine and exited the dining room.

Jack walked to the A-deck promenade and grabbed the rail. He was fed up with the charade that was his life. He looked at the drawing of the dining room and saw a charcoal line from when she confiscated his book like he was a child. Jack ruffled his hair and looked out at the people below him. Third class was right in his view. Everybody around him, with the exception of Molly Brown, seemed to hold disdain for these people. Molly tried to justify over lunch that money wasn't everything, and Ruth had snorted in high amusement. In a sea of caps and tied up scraggy hair Jack's eyes spied a woman who looked more like an angel. Her magnificent red hair was tied up in a bun, her porcelain skin shone brilliantly in the light like a thousand illuminated pearls. She was beautiful, like a rose amongst daisies. He stared at her, not wanting to blink in case she disappeared. She was taking in the breeze of the ocean, and she looked sad, and lost. She looked back towards the A-deck and locked eyes with him. He felt a cold hand touch the small of his back and turned to see Catherine behind him. "Well Jack, I have no idea what you were thinking. Do you have any idea how rude that was?"  
Jack turned quickly to see the red haired girl who was watching intently. Catherine sighed dramatically and stormed off back towards the restaurant. Jack went to follow her and then remembered that he put down his sketchpad on the bench near the rail. He searched again for the red haired beauty but this time she was truly gone.


	4. Don't Leave Me On This Ship Alone

Jack looked back at Lovett, Bodine and his nurse who were fixed on his every word.  
"I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches... always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter."  
"Did you ever consider, well, you know" asked Bodine hesitantly.  
"Suicide?" asked Jack plainly. "That night I did, but somebody was already there."  
Jack looked out at the wreckage and saw an old bench, which immediately took him back to the night he nearly jumped off the Titanic.

_1912_

Jack Dawson, a boy of eighteen, was considering ending his life. Dinner had just about sent him over the edge, all of the people talking about money as if it meant more than oxygen. He didn't really matter to them, or to anyone. He lay back on the bench and gazed at the stars, feeling more and more insignificant as he looked at all of the glowing orbs in the big black night. The silence was golden as he lit a cigarette, something he hadn't done in a while. The silence was disturbed by the fast clicking of heels on the deck above him. In the shadows, a sobbing woman ran past him at the speed of an unstoppable train. When the moonlight illuminated the mystery woman, Jack saw who it was. The woman he saw on the third class deck at lunch. She looked different though, she was dressed quite finely. Concerned, he sat upright and followed the sound of her noisy shoes.

Surely enough, he reached the edge of the ship and the red haired woman had climbed over the rail and was facing out towards the endless ocean. She was still there. Jack quietly sighed with relief, but knew that she had to be stopped.  
"Don't do it" said Jack cautiously.  
She turned to face him, he saw the pain in her eyes and the tracks of tears that stained her cheeks.  
"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" she said, trying to force a voice of authority.  
"Come on, just give me your hand and I'll pull you back over."  
"No! Stay where you are! I mean it, I'll let go!"  
He edged closer, removed the cigarette from his mouth and indicated he was throwing it away. She didn't move.

"So, you'll let go will you?" he asked slowly.  
She looked at him as if he was a simpleton. "Yes, I will, now leave me alone" she said, her voice wavering.  
"No you won't" Jack said confidently.  
"What do you mean no I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me!" she cried angrily.  
"You would have done it already" said Jack, hoping to make this woman reconsider.  
She couldn't reason with him. "You're distracting me. Go away.  
"I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you."  
She shot him another simpleton look. "Don't be absurd. You'll be killed."  
Jack took off his jacket "I'm a good swimmer"  
"The fall alone would kill you" she retaliated, finding every excuse not to listen to this stranger.  
"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you." Jack said, hoping his voice didn't show insincerity. Just moments before he would have been the one jumping. "But like I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

She considered this, not for one moment taking her eyes off of this man. He studied her expression; her poker face did not reveal any clues as to what her next move would be.  
"Come on, you don't want to do this. Give me your hand." He reached out his hand, praying in his head that she would see sense.  
Slowly she released one hand from the rail and turned around to face him. She gasped as she realised it was the man who had viewed her from the upper deck.  
"I'm Jack Dawson" he said, awkwardly shaking her hand.  
"Rose Dewitt Bukater" she replied.  
"I'm gonna have to get you to write that one down" he said honestly. Rose gave a small laugh and held onto his hand tightly. Whilst climbing the rail, the satin material of her dress got caught under her foot and suddenly she slipped and was falling. She screamed a sound like murder that echoed in the empty air.

Jack held a tight grip on her hand and instructed her to let go of the rail with her other. She shot him a bewildered look, trying to predict his next move. "I've got you. I won't let go" Jack promised. He managed to pull her over the rail and they landed on their backs on the floor. Jack kneeled over her, making sure she was alright. The shock had obviously set in as she struggled for breath. Unfortunately for him, the master at arms had arrived to find him on top of Rose. The master at arms blew his whistle, and soon followed the quartermaster.

Nathan Hockley had been on the way back to his room after joining his companions for brandy and discussing foreign trade. He saw the handcuffs about to be slapped onto Jack and made his way down. "Jack, what the devil is going on here?"  
"We caught him terrorizing this young lady, we heard her screaming and surely enough we caught him in the act" said Quartermaster Lowe solemnly.  
Nathan Hockley spoke softly only in earshot of Lowe "But Mr. Dawson is in first class, he is far more civilised than the third class criminals who commit this sort of felony."  
Rose, who had said nothing the entire time unwrapped herself from the blanket they provided her and went over to explain.  
"Mr. Lowe, please stop! It was an accident!"  
They all turned to Rose, their facial expressions ranging from confused to curious.  
"Stupid really" she continued hurriedly, "I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning way over, to see the... ah... propellers. And I slipped. I would have gone overboard... and Mr. Dawson here saved me and almost went over himself."  
"Was that the way of it?" asked the master at arms.  
Jack looked straight back to Rose, whose eyes pleaded for his alibi.  
"Yeah, that was pretty much it" Jack said, feeling a relief that connected the two of them.

The authorities quickly dispersed without so much as asking for her name, and Nathan turned to Jack with an inquisitive stare. "Well all's well and back to my brandy, join me Jack?" he asked, making it sound more like an order. Jack saw Rose was about to leave. "Yeah, just wait a moment."

He jogged over to Rose, and Nathan watched with a disapproving glare.  
"Rose!"  
She turned around, still shaking with adrenaline and from the cold.  
"Yes Mr. Dawson?"  
"Join me for dinner" he spluttered suddenly, "please."  
"Mr. Dawson, I wouldn't quite belong-"  
"Please" he insisted. "Tomorrow night."  
She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. Either he didn't think she was a third class girl or he didn't care.  
"Fine" she said reluctantly. "I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Dawson. Goodnight."  
With that she headed around to the steerage stairs, and Jack walked towards Nathan who was drawing conclusions. "Don't forget who you're engaged to" he said seriously. Jack nodded with a blank expression, secretly glad to now have a name to the face he was searching for.


	5. Separation Of The Classes

The news of Jack's heroism spread around the ship like wildfire, and his immediate group were curious of the first class girl he had saved. None of them had ever seen her around, and more importantly did not know what wealth she held. They all assumed that she was first class, as Nathan described her as having a similar dress to Catherine. Catherine scowled at Jack when Nathan announced that Rose would be joining them for dinner on Jack's invitation, but Jack could not care less for Catherine's jealousy. After the interrogation, Jack made his way over to the outside deck. Molly saw Jack's distant expression and patted him on the back. "You're a hero Jack, you saved someone's life. No money can buy that integrity" she stated. Jack looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. "Molly, I need a favour." She waited for him to continue with raised eyebrows.

"The girl I saved, Rose, isn't exactly in first class. She only looked like she was. She's from steerage. Although she doesn't look it. You have a daughter right?"  
Molly nodded, not quite catching onto Jack's plan.  
"Well Rose didn't want to come, because she felt she wouldn't fit in. You could pretend that Rose is your daughter, and maybe they won't suspect she is third class."  
Molly smiled at Jack "Are you sure it will work sonny?"  
"Her class doesn't matter to me Molly, but it matters to her, and to them" he said indicating to the rich folk behind him.  
She sighed, still smiling. "Alrighty Jack, but best you inform her of what's going on. Poor girl will already be a deer in headlights." He thanked her several times before sneaking towards the second class stairway, waving at Molly with a carefree grin. Molly chuckled to herself, and imagined bratty Catherine's anguish when Jack showed to dinner with another girl on his arm.

Jack weaved through second class passengers and found the gate that went to steerage. He unlatched the gate and buttoned his coat up. Steerage was the opposite of the cold upper deck; it was full of warmth and life. Children raced around kicking a ball, different languages were heard all around the area chatting animatedly. Everyone seemed worry free, and happy to have each other's company.  
"I think you're lost boyo" said a friendly Irish voice who inspected Jack, noting his formal attire.  
"I think I'd rather be here" replied Jack with a grin, shaking hands with the Irish man. "Jack Dawson"  
"Tommy Ryan" the man said cheerfully, grabbing his pal who was sitting next to him by the arm.  
"Fabrizio De Rossi" said the Italian man, shaking Jack's hand with wide eyes.  
"I'm looking for someone" Jack said hopefully. "Her name is Rose Dewitt- uh… something or other."  
Tommy and Fabrizio exchanged grins and pointed toward the corner. There in the small patch of sunlight sat Rose, who was braiding a little girl's hair. Jack felt his heart speed up as he approached her, not really knowing what to say. He tapped her lightly and she turned to him, shocked and pleasantly surprised at the same time.

"Mr. Dawson? Funny, I was just contemplating coming to see you."  
"So it must be fate" Jack said, smiling. "I was wondering if we could talk."  
Rose nodded and got up from the bench. "I'll see you later Cora" she said warmly as the little brunette girl skipped towards the other children. Tommy and Fabrizio raised their eyebrows several times, making Rose suppress a giggle. Jack opened the gate for Rose and then closed it behind him, leaving the steerage passengers to happily resume their activities.

Jack stood with her on the third class deck, both of them leaning on a rail and taking in the salty smell of the crisp morning air. They both felt awkward, for different reasons as they stand in complete silence.  
"Mr. Dawson, I-"  
"Jack" he corrected.  
"Jack" she noted, "I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for pulling me back, but for your discretion."  
"You're welcome" said Jack, his mind filled with a million questions.  
"Look, Rose, can I be honest with you?"  
"Please" she replied.  
"When I saw you, for the first time on the deck yesterday, I felt some sort of connection. I know it sounds absurd but that's the feeling I had."  
Rose gave a small smile then looked out to the ocean again. "Jack, I know how foolish I must have seemed last night. I just felt like my whole world and all the people in it wouldn't miss me if I was gone. I wore the only nice dress I could find, so I could die in it. I wish I could be rich like the people in first class. Then I'd have no problems."  
"Money can't rid you from your problems, I'd rather live in the third class" Jack said hesitantly, "I felt like jumping too."

Again, they both stood in silence. Rose felt more stupid than ever. "Why?"  
"What are your views on love Rose?" asked Jack, seemingly ignoring her question.  
"Love should know no boundaries" said Rose, colour filling her cheeks.  
"What if you were forced to marry someone you didn't love?"  
Rose thought about it, knowing fully that was the reason she was poor. "I couldn't do it" she concluded with certainty. "I didn't do it" she added.  
Jack looked bewildered and she thought it best to explain.  
"I had been withdrawn from my schooling one day, two years ago, when I was sixteen. My mother and father told me that the purpose of an education was to find a good husband, but they had already found one for me. He was a man of thirty something, and had assets of millions. I tried Jack, really I tried. But it wasn't for me. He wasn't for me. For a year I pretended, and I had finally had enough. I told my parents and they told me that if I refused, they'd disown me. I left that night with a suitcase of clothes and some of my possessions. That very night I was robbed, left with nothing but the dress I wore last night. I made my way to an inn, where the owners took me in and gave me some of their clothes. I worked as their maid and they were more loving than my mother and father ever were. On my eighteenth birthday I found a ticket for the Titanic on my bed, with a note from them insisting I make a new start. I was excited at first. But being amongst people with money, I am always reminded that I'll struggle no matter where I go. I'm a nothing now."

"You're something to me" said Jack, not taking his eyes off of her. "I know how you feel Rose. I have to marry a girl who I can't stand. I mean Catherine isn't for me, like that man wasn't for you."  
"The woman you were arguing with on the deck?"  
He frowned, remembering how Catherine had spoken down to him in front of their luncheon company and out on the deck.  
"Yeah."  
"Well don't marry her then."  
Jack smirked, releasing a small laugh. Rose suddenly realised how out of place she was and tried to justify her comment.  
"I didn't mean-"  
"Rose, it's fine. I wish it were that simple, only it doesn't work like that my circle of 'friends'. You'll get what I mean tonight."

Rose suddenly remembered dinner, and Jack saw her expression change.  
"Jack I can't, really. I don't fit in anymore."  
"Mrs. Brown, Molly, said you could pretend to be her daughter."  
Rose cast him the bewildered look this time.  
"She's not like the rest of them, she's like me. Class doesn't matter. You could pass as her daughter. And you've been in first class before, you know how they act."  
Rose sighed, fearing the worst but knew she owed Jack.  
Jack took her hand and led her up the steps to the first class deck, finally feeling like someone in his world cared.


End file.
